


What are you? I'm...soft

by shanimalew



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Post-Armageddon, Self-Esteem Issues, body issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-04 20:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanimalew/pseuds/shanimalew
Summary: Aziraphale can't shake off Gabriel's comment on his body, leading him to overthink his choices. Thank Go...the universe that there's a demon ready to show him what really matters.





	What are you? I'm...soft

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little thing I wrote because that's how I cope with thoughts...by making characters suffer through them with me.

“Do you think I’m getting fatter?” Aziraphale asks Crowley out of the blue on a quiet summer afternoon.

He is looking at himself in the mirror, patting his stomach while Crowley is lying on the couch, head towards the sun coming from the window. He feels warm and strangely calm, but it may be due to the presence of Aziraphale...and the lack of any downwards communication.

Crowley raises his eyes from the book he’s reading, because that’s a common thing for him now, reading, and gives Aziraphale a puzzled look.

“What are you talking about” he states, his voice plain and free from any kind of inflection.

“I asked you if you think I’m getting fatter”

“Can you do that, though? Being a celestial being…”

Crowley looks at him with an intensity that makes Aziraphale’s knees tremble. He sheepishly looks away, feeling his face getting redder by the minute.

“I think so” he says, looking again at the mirror “I don’t need to eat or drink but if I do so it must go somewhere, don’t you think?”

“Well...yes. Maybe.” Crowley says, checking Aziraphale out with an inquisitive stare “I still don’t see where’s the problem”

Aziraphale doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t really know where’s the problem if he must be honest. He never really thought about his body, he is an angel after all. They are immaterial celestial beings, bodies are not seen as something fundamental to their existence.

Of course, he needs it to interact with humans and to taste their wonderful culinary creations but apart from that...it doesn’t really matter.

He’s an angel, with or without his body.

He’s a booklover, with or without it.

Everything he is, every action he has taken both on Earth and not, had and still has nothing to do with his body. He could as well be a young lady or a child and none of his actions, behaviours or desired would change.

He understands that bodies are fundamental for humans as an instrument for survival and communication. After all, humans are born with it and their entire existence depends on how well they preserve that body. However, he doesn’t understand why angels care so much about those bodies.

Why Gabriel cares so much about his…and Aziraphale’s, in particular.

“Angel, you still here?” Crowley asks, startling him.

The demon decides to definitely close his book, putting it on the table near him, and raise himself from the twisted position he was in.

“Yes, my dear, just lost in thought. I really think I’d better lose some weight, that’s all” he says, remembering Crowley’s early question.

“Why, though? It’s not like you can have health problems…”

“Aesthetic, then” he quickly responds.

In the corner of his eye he sees Crowley raising his right eyebrow so high it looks impossible, and also quite painful. 

“Since when do you care about being fashionable and up-to-date? You have had the same clothes for centuries and you have an old, dusty bookshop...doesn’t scream ‘trendy’ to me”

“Hey! Don’t offend my bookshop” Aziraphale says indignant, finally looking at Crowley.

The demon in question is sitting on the sofa, elbows on his almost impossibly spread legs, head resting on his joined hands.

His glasses have slightly fallen, sitting at the end of his nose, exposing his eyes. He has a strange, powerful look on that Aziraphale can’t really read but nonetheless, he’s mesmerized by it, finding it impossible to take his eyes off the demon.

He’s breathtaking.

A soft sigh escapes his lips and he immediately regains control of himself, feeling self-conscious for looking like a lovesick fool.

“See something you like, angel?” Crowley says, smirking.

Aziraphale blushes, ready to give a witty, not at all smitten, answer, when his mind forms only a thought.

_ He’s thin. _

Of course it’s not the first time he has noticed this, but it’s the first time he feels his stomach drop at the thought. 

_ He’s so thin and elegant, what is he doing with me? He deserves someone equally, if not more beautiful by his side... _

“Okay angel, enough. What’s the problem?” Crowley says, standing up and walking towards Aziraphale. His eyes still wander on the angel’s figure but now they’re veiled with concern.

“Nothing is wrong, my dear. I’m just…”

“Stop lying, you’re not very good at it. Why the sudden interest in losing weight?” Crowley stops him, inquisitive. His eyes fixed on Aziraphale’s face, as the angel tries to hold his gaze.

“It was just a thought” he starts, feeling sweat form at the base of his neck. “I was talking to Gabriel and he suggested I’d lose some weight, for the battle, but obviously there’s no battle. Not anymore. But I still thought it was a nice advice I should follow…”

“A nice advice? Coming from the angel who was willing to let you burn into infernal flames without a second thought?”

“Well, if you put it that way…”

“How else am I supposed to put it? He’s a dickhead, Aziraphale. A self-righteous, self-absorbed and every self adjective existent bastard and have I mentioned a killer? Because he definitely is! And…”

“Ok, ok dear, we get it” Aziraphale says, stopping Crowley’s monologue by gently touching his cheek.

“My point is, he’s a dick and you shouldn’t listen to him.”

Crowley leans into Aziraphale’s hand, moving just enough to kiss it, eyes adoring every inch of the angel’s face.

“Besides, you’re okay just as you are”

“Just okay?” says the angel, smiling nonetheless.

“More than okay”

“You were almost ready to go to the dictionary to find more insults for Gabriel and for me just ‘okay’. I feel insulted”. 

He knows he’s not credible, all smiley and adoring, but he can’t help it. Not when he knows those words are only the tip of the iceberg of Crowley’s love. Not when he can truly feel all around him his love. It’s like being closed in a bubble of sweet, intense perfume. It’s inebriating.

Crowley doesn’t say anything, he just laughs, faking exasperation. Then, he gently kisses Aziraphale.

The angel immediately raises his other hand to Crowley’s face, tenderly holding him while also deepening the kiss; trying, with every kiss, to make up for all those millennia lost being naive and scared. 

Crowley pushes their bodies together, hands roaming on Aziraphale’s body.

First his lower back, then a gentle but firm squeeze at his ass and tights, then back to his back and shoulders, up till his face with one hand, while the other rests on the angel’s belly.

From the outside it may look like a very well done, but very inappropriate, body search but Aziraphale knows what it means.

Every touch screams ‘I love you just the way you are’, ‘You’re perfect’ and Aziraphale feels every single word and so much more.

He tries to soak in them and trying hard to believe what Crowley is telling him.

“We’re really an odd couple, aren’t we?” He murmurs, after breaking the kiss. 

His hands move between them, awkwardly indicating his and Crowley’s different bodies.

“Darling, we are an angel and a demon together, how much odder can it be?” Crowley replies, caressing Aziraphale’s face.

“Now” he continues, “I heard of a new bakery that opened not far from here, want to try it and see if their crepes are as good as the French ones?”

Aziraphale smiles and takes his demon’s hand. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the firm yet loving grip of Crowley’s hand, on the smell of his new cologne mixed with Crowley’s scent and on the sweet, loving feeling coming from Crowley. He feels his body relax, slowly forgetting Gabriel’s words and his anxious thoughts.

“I’d love that, my dear” he replies, excited at the idea of their little date.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!  
I'm also on [Tumblr](https://shanimalew.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/shanimalew) if you want to come and scream with me about these two idiots in love.


End file.
